Ruth Livingstone
My book: Walking the English Coast
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Winfield’s Award
Killer Cows: Cattle Safety
Miley and his wife have to wade across a stream to escape cattle.
Incident number 1305Date: 30.08.26Site: Public footpath alongside of Egglestone Abbey near Barnard Castle. County Durham.Bull with cows and calves (Comment: very large brown cattle with small horns.)2 walkers with dog on a lead. Miley’s Report: “We were walking from woods towards grasslands alongside Egglestone Abbey. This was the only route back to the gate onto […]
Cows chase walkers AGAIN on Sussex Ouse Valley way
Incident number 1303Date: 31.5.26Site: Between Lewes and Hamsey on the river footpath BN7I dog, on a lead, 2 walkers Description: “Chased by cows on footpath, not for the first time here but very scary. Our dog froze in panic making getting away from cows near impossible.We reported it to the council who have replied saying […]
Cows with calves roaming freely around Hare Hill
Incident number 1301Date: 24.05.26Site: Roughly this: What3words:Punctuate.Otter.Fronted. Near Over Alderley, Hare Hill permissive path. 1 dog on lead, 3 walkers. RH’s report: “We were just walking and suddenly a group of cattle burst out of a field (from nowhere) and moved around us, not charging but getting quite close, agitated and shifting around restlessly with […]
Tag Archives: walking
57. Littlehampton to Bognor Regis and Pagham
I see an egret, flying low and graceful above me. I pull out my camera, but am not quick enough. By the time I am ready, the egret has landed some distance away. Later, I am distressed by the poor condition of the pier at Bognor Regis. But I love Pagham Harbour, despite the mud. Continue reading
56. Ferring to Littlehampton
I walk along shingle to Rustington, where air speed records were once broken. I see the longest bench in Britain and discover Littlehampton is a very attractive town. Then I splash around on the West Beach. Continue reading
55. Shoreham to Worthing To Ferring
Worthing is surprisingly nice with a good pier. I see Morris Dancers and kitesurfers. And discover a charming garden in the shingle. Continue reading
54. Brighton to Hove to Southwick
Despite the fact I am determined to try and like Brighton, I am put off by the burnt pier and a rude man. I discover a nudist beach, in the shadow of a power station. Pleased to be heading home. Continue reading
53. Seaford to Brighton
I start walking from lovely Seaford, see a Wheatear in an abandoned village, take a detour through Newhaven, walk across crumbling cliffs, pass through the unusual town of Peacehaven, cross the Greenwich Meridian line and arrive, tired and grumpy, in Brighton. Continue reading
52. Eastbourne to Seaford
Shivers go up and down my spine. Here, along the crumbling cliff edge, are tributes to people who have died. There are bunches of flowers and little crosses – 5 or 6 little memorials. They are sited where the path comes very close to the edge of the cliff. Beachy Head is a magnet for the sad and desperate; 530 feet above the sea – the 3rd most popular place in the world for suicides. Continue reading
51. Bexhill to Eastbourne
Between Bexhill and Eastbourne, I meet herring gulls, comorants and an egret. The heavens open but lightning fails to strike me down. I pass 6 Martello Towers in various stages of redevelopment and decay. Eastbourne is surprisingly attractive and its pier looks lovely in the evening light. Continue reading
50. Hastings to Bexhill
What a sad sight this pier is! Burnt buildings, roofless wrecks, timbers showing, seagulls perching on shattered planking – a blackened and rusting structure. Warning signs advise people to stay away and not to walk beneath.
Continue reading
49. Rye Harbour to Hastings
There is a naturist beach at Fairlight Cove – although access to the beach is deterred due to the dangers posed by erosion. There are great fossils to be found here. And dinosaurs’ footprints. Sadly, I see no fossils, no dinosaur footprints and no nudists. But I do have a great walk and manage to pursuade my husband not to break his neck.
48. Lydd to Rye to Rye Harbour
When I walk in, people stare at me. I wonder if they are looking at my boots, my jaunty little rucksack, or admiring my general air of health and wellbeing. After a very good lemon curd bun, I visit the loo and find out, by looking in the mirror, that my hair is sticking up on end and covered in sand. I look like a wild woman. Continue reading
Ruth's Coastal Walk (UK) 